Guppies

A favorite quote:

Humans are the only animals that have children on purpose with the exception of guppies, who like to eat theirs. -P.J. O’Rourke

My current FB status:

Dear 9-year old, You should be thankful you pulled that stunt in public. You should also be thankful that humans don’t eat their young. -Mom

Frankly, I’m trying to remember why I ever wanted to be a mom in the first place. You know, that urge, that tug at your heart and in your uterus that you absolutely needed to have a baby? Yeah. That. It would be nice if I could get a refresher tug because, holy shit, I’m about ready to quit.

JP has been on a new “mood stabilizer” for nearly two weeks. The only thing that’s been consistent is irrational anger, a short fuse, and the urge to piss off as many people in our family as possible.

He was in a mood tonight when we headed out to SG’s softball game. My plan was to ignore him. Alas, he decided to be deliberately unkind to XC (who’s 3), then when I told him to sit down, instead of saying, “I’d rather sit on the bleachers instead of at the picnic tables.” He got indignant and said, “NO,” before attempting to storm off in the opposite direction.

He received a personal escort (me) to the car so he could chill the fuck out.

But.

He refused to walk. Then he tried to run away. Then he smacked me with his book. We got to the car and he refused to get in. I tried to give him a push, police-style, but instead of conceding defeat, he flew into the car sideways and wedged himself between the front and back seats on the floor.

(Dramatic much?)

Fine.

Be uncomfortable, kid.

So I shut the door.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is when shit got real.

“YOU’RE SUCH A BITCH!” he shouted.

I said nothing. I did nothing.I started the car and we drove away.

My child should be singing praises to the Universe that we were in public because I was full of rage.

“Get in the seat.”

(He smacked the back of my seat.)

“Get in the seat right and put your seatbelt on. Now.”

He sat in the back seat, muttering under his breath, smacking the seats, the door. He tried to destroy some of my husbands blueprints (denied!).

I had had more than enough.

“JP,” I said in the quiet voice that strikes fear into the heart of children, “if you ever call me or another woman a bitch again, I will smack you so hard you’ll be spitting out teeth for a week. Now, knock it off. We’re going home. You’re done.”*

Speaking of done.

Over the course of the last year we’ve tried at least a dozen of med combos. Antidepressants, antipsychotics, mood stabilizers, ADHD meds, blood pressure meds that are supposed to be good for kids like JP… and sometimes there’s marginal improvement for a brief, shiny moment. But then we end up with side effects that aren’t good: anxiety, depression, paranoia, aggression…

Tomorrow, I’ll call his psychiatrist (yet again) and this time I’m going to see how she feels about taking him off everything except for his ADHD medication.

I’ve gotten back into the habit of getting the kids to eat “clean” (there is a post, somewhere in my draft folder, about that very topic** that I’ve yet to finish writing) and I think JP does better when his diet is free of wheat, gluten, dairy, and corn: whole foods only. No thank you to the processed crap. It’s not easy. It’s expensive. It’s time consuming. But during the two weeks where we religiously ate wheat, dairy, gluten, soy, corn, and egg free, JP was doing better at home and at school. Things got hectic at the end of the year and I wasn’t practiced enough so we I fell off the wagon. Consider me back on and riding at full speed.

I want my kid back. Whatever it takes. I want my kid back. I’m tired of wishing we were guppies so I could eat him.

*No, I wouldn’t actually do that but JP crossed at least three lines that a 9-year old ought not cross and I was pissed. We will discuss calmly and rationally tomorrow. He scored himself a one way ticket to a 7:15 bedtime, grounding from electronic devices until he gets back from camp (next Tuesday), and no pool tomorrow.

**SG recently did allergy testing and she is, quite literally, allergic to everything, thus the impetus to begin eating clean***.

***I tell the kids we’re eating clean/ healthy because I don’t want to use the word “diet”. Also, I don’t want to attribute the food (re: no soda, candy, chips, etc.) changes to SG’s allergies because I don’t want her to take the blame.

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